Chasing Justice

by Danielle Stewart

  Michael loved every second of this banter. Too often women tried hard to be accommodating to his ego, so it was nice to have a woman willing to shut him down. “Well, I think we both know there isn’t a man in this world who could put a dent in your self-esteem,” he countered.

  Piper found this hilarious. If Michael could only see how fragile she really was he’d be stunned.

  “You have no shortage of confidence. And you said two problems. That was only one problem.”

  “Maybe you have some fundamental personality flaw that has women running from your house screaming once they discover it. You speak in the third person during sex, or you have an inappropriate bond with your mom or something,” Piper said, fighting hard to keep her face serious.

  “Wait, women don’t like those things?” Michael asked with a look of shock as he pretended to write down what she was saying. “Hold on let me take notes since you seem to have this all figured out.”

  “Seriously, Michael, there would be absolutely no hope of anything ever panning out with us, and I happen to like what we have right now,” she said with a more serious tone in her voice.

  “What exactly do we have right now? You stopped calling months ago. Then I hear from you out of the blue and still don’t know why. Did you kill someone?” Michael tried to let the blow to his pride from her rejection go, and turn the mood back to a light one.

  “No, I didn’t kill anyone. You’ll be glad to know I do need your help though. I know men like you really enjoy chivalry. So, no, I won’t have dinner with you, but I do need you.” She pulled a notebook and pen from her bag and placed it on her lap.

  Michael was intrigued now. He was born with that unfortunate gene that made it impossible not to help a beautiful woman. “I guess I can settle for being your hero and buying you a drink. What exactly do you need?”

  “I’ll definitely take a raincheck on the drink, maybe next week? Today I need some information. I’m writing a paper for school on judicial ethics,” Piper lied. “I need some real world examples to be able to get my head in the right place for this assignment. Since I sat in on some of your cases I thought we could use things that I can relate to. Do you think you can help?” She did her best to look pathetically desperate, and it seemed to be working.

  “I guess so. But it’s important you know, I barely even talk to my mom, and I only refer to myself in third person when I’m getting ready in the morning. It helps me get pumped up for the day.” Joking with Piper was like being on vacation, and he would help her write ten papers if it meant she’d stay in his office a little longer. Being a lawyer wasn’t nearly as exciting as he thought it would be. So when a woman like Piper walked in, with a jagged sense of humor and the ability to keep up intellectually, he took notice.

  “Great! Now what was that judge’s name for that drug case you lost? The older guy with the big nose?” Piper put her pen to her lips and pretended to rack her brain.

  “Judge Lions? I’ve tried a bunch of cases in front of him. We can use him as an example, but you can’t site any names in this paper. Not mine and not his, understood?” The joking had clearly ceased for a minute while Michael made his point.

  “No, of course not, I’m trying to get a few real life scenarios so I can make this paper feel authentic. Now let me ask you, have you ever felt like Judge Lions was being biased or unethical?” She put her pen to the paper, ready to write.

  “I can’t answer that question. You’re asking me to say if I think a judge who I stand before regularly is doing his job appropriately. I’m sorry, kiddo, that’s not going to happen,” Michael insisted, shaking his head.

  “No, that’s not at all what I’m asking you to do. I’m wondering if there have been cases where you feel like the judge is leaning in favor of the defendant for personal reasons. Come on Michael, I promise I won’t bring you into this—or the judge for that matter. I want to be able to look through the eyes of your years of experience. Please, I need your help.” She hated to play that card, but with a man like Michael, who always wanted to lend a hand, she knew he would cave.

  Michael gritted his teeth and his nostrils flared. This damn girl was driving him crazy. “Fine, here’s what I’ll tell you. Every judge has a life outside of the courtroom. Each grew up a certain way, had a whole existence before becoming a judge, and there are times when I think that can make a difference in how they rule, even though it’s not supposed to. I don’t really care for Judge Lions myself. I have tried about nine cases in front of him and seven were lost because he either suppressed evidence or ruled some testimony to be stricken for one reason or another. He never did anything illegal in my eyes, but I’ve felt sour about those cases. That comes with the territory. Do I think there are crooked judges out there? Yes. Do I know if Judge Lions is one? No. Writing a paper about judicial ethics is a slippery slope, Piper. You can’t go calling people out and trying to break the next big story. If I were ever to accuse a judge because I thought he was ruling on something based on personal bias and I was wrong, my career would be over. That means all the people I plan to help for the rest of my career are out of luck. In this business you help who you can, and you play by the rules. I know it doesn’t sound like we’re all following our moral compass here, and maybe it’s disheartening for someone starting out, but it’s the truth. I can win a lot of small battles but the odds are I can’t win the war. If you want to continue down this path then you’re going to have to come to terms with that.”

  Michael never liked to be the one to break it to people that sometimes there was a whole lot of grey in this profession, not nearly as much black and white as they led you to believe in school.

  Piper was unimpressed and annoyed. “That’s kind of bullshit. You’re telling me that if you thought the judge was, let’s say taking money from someone and then making decisions in their favor, you wouldn’t do anything?” Her voice was a few octaves higher then she meant it to be, but it was becoming clear Michael wasn’t going to give up much helpful information without perhaps being argued into doing so.

  “That isn’t what I said. If that were the case I would bring any information I had to my superiors and push to have him removed if there was enough evidence.” Defensive tones didn’t sound as good as playful banter.

  “Oh sure, and when your boss is on the take too, you find yourself careening off the side of a mountain because someone cut your brake line in an effort to keep you quiet,” she said with true conviction on her face.

  “You’ve been watching way too many movies. Are there some rumors and grumbling from prosecutors who feel Judge Lions might be more lenient to the defendants in some cases? Sure. But mostly that’s because, as you never fail to point out, prosecutors have giant egos, and when we are bruised we go looking for a reason for why we lost.” Michael hoped this explanation would be enough to redirect Piper’s focus away from a conspiracy within the judicial system.

  “Which group do you think he is more lenient toward? Is there a specific subset of people that he tends to favor?” Piper was not stupid. She saw her window of opportunity closing quickly, and dancing around her questions wouldn’t serve her very well with Michael.

  “That’s all you took away from that?” Michael asked, clearly exasperated. “Listen Piper, I don’t know what this is all about, but you are heading down a path with far greater repercussions than you can imagine. I know what it’s like to be starting out and to feel like there has to be more you can do to take the bad guys off the street, but trust me, being a good prosecutor is the best thing I can do. Whether this is a paper or an investigation, leave it alone.” Michael paused and ran his fingers through his hair trying not to get too wound up. “Even as I say it, I know you aren’t listening, so rather than have you go poking around and asking someone else, I’ll tell you that all cases are public records. You can see the players, the verdicts, and the evidence all down at town hall in the records department. Go do the math and draw your own conclusions. But I need you to promise
me two things.” Michael leaned forward across his desk and put his hand on Piper’s. There was electricity when he touched her. It was enough to get her attention, but in paled in comparison to the feeling that shot through her when Bobby sat close enough to her for their arms to touch.

  She looked directly into his green eyes and nodded her head as he continued.

  “Promise me that I’m your only contact for this. You don’t go running around asking any lawyer who will listen what he thinks of a sitting judge. You can trust me, but you got lucky. Next time you might be asking the wrong person.” He released her hand and sat back in his chair.

  “I promise, I won’t go asking these kinds of questions anywhere else. You said to promise you two things. What was the other?” Piper had hoped it was something lighthearted and back to being about dinner plans.

  “Promise me that if you get in over your head, with anything, you’ll call me. I’d like to hope that after leaving this conversation you’ll go home and run a search on your computer for judicial ethics, piece together some fluff paper, and put all this behind you. But I’m not getting that impression. So in light of that, if you get yourself in a tough spot, promise you’ll give me a call.” Michael had no idea what was so magnetic about Piper. She was beautiful and came across as incredibly confident, but at the same time she seemed very broken. Maybe it was those big brown doe eyes with lashes that seemed to go on forever. Something about her made him think she was a walking contradiction. She managed to be both a headstrong woman and damsel in distress. It was hard to put his finger on but something about her always left Michael wanting more.

  He was physically attracted to her, but if he was honest with himself, at the end of the day it was more that he wanted to know her, and to know she was all right. She had never volunteered much information about herself and it wasn’t in Michael’s personality to go digging for it. At work that was all he seemed to do, search for the truth. In his personal life he preferred to leave his connections with people fun and light. That’s why things worked so well with Piper. She didn’t spend all her time gushing over her last terrible boyfriend or her daddy issues. There were times, however, when he considered using his prosecuting skills to find out more about her, but he always reconsidered. Some territories are better left unexplored.

  “I will, and thank you, Michael.” She tucked her pen and notebook back into her bag and stood up.

  “Don’t thank me for that information. I’m sure I’ve done you more harm than good.” Michael stood as well, although he was sorry to see her going.

  “I’m not thanking you for that. I’m thanking you for being exactly the guy I hoped you were. I’m not sure why I knew I could come to you, but I did, and you proved me right. There are a lot of disappointing people in the world, and today you weren’t one of them.” She smiled at him gratefully.

  “Should we hug? I feel like we should hug.” Michael walked around his desk with his arms stretched out, ready to embrace her.

  “Why on earth would we hug?” Piper asked, stepping back from him and laughing.

  “I was hoping if I could press you up against me, get you close enough to smell my cologne and touch my rock hard muscles, then you’d be so overcome with my charm that you would reconsider my dinner offer.” He stepped in closer to her.

  “Then we should definitely hug, because there is no chance of that happening,” she replied, with a deadpan look on her face as she let him wrap his arms around her.

  He put his lips to her ear and whispered through her hair, “Is it working?”

  “Not even a little bit,” she said, and he let her go as they laughed. She threw her bag over her shoulder, and he opened his office door for her.

  “Be smart, Piper,” Michael called out, as he watched her walk back through the waiting area. She turned and smiled, mouthing the words “thank you” as she passed through the glass doors and back toward the elevator.

  Chapter Seven

  As Piper walked the eight blocks from her apartment to town hall she tried to internalize the warning Michael had given her. She wasn’t entirely sure this endeavor was something that could exist in reality. She reminded herself that there would be a point in time when it would be too late to turn back. She still had time to change course and mind her own business, get on with the new uncomplicated life that lay in front of her. She ran Michael’s words through her head over and over, but it didn’t seem to matter. She was committed to this now, and no amount of admonition would be enough to deter her.

  She was lost in her own thoughts when she suddenly found herself knocked backward. She had run right into someone and she, being the smaller of the two, had toppled back onto the sidewalk. She felt a cold liquid spread across her chest and stomach. As she regained her bearings she heard a familiar voice over her.

  “Oh my,” shouted Judge Lions. “My dear I am so sorry. Are you hurt?” He reached his hand down to lift Piper back to her feet, but shock kept her from taking his assistance. “I spilled my sweet tea all over you. You poor girl.” He crouched down next to her and with his large hands and sausage-like fingers began trying to wipe at Piper’s shirt.

  “I’m fine,” Piper grunted, brushing his hand away. She wanted to shove his hand back and ask what kind of man uses the guise of a spilled drink to fondle a stranger, but she held her composure. This needed to be a relatively quick event with no lasting memory for the judge. She didn’t want to be on his radar in any way, especially as the woman shouting at him for groping her.

  As hard as it was at that moment, Piper smiled at him. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I’m not hurt. Thank you for trying to help, but I’m on my way to an appointment and have to run.” Now standing, she was close enough to smell his dated musky cologne and to see the large black hairs in his nose and ears. She couldn’t be sure if it was her knowledge of his deviant ways that made him so repulsive or if he truly was a disgusting looking man. Either way, from this close proximity, her stomach turned at the sight of him.

  “Are you sure? I’ve ruined your shirt.” He reached out and touched Pipers shirt just over her belly button and it took an enormous amount of self-control for her to not physically strike him.

  “I can pay you for dry cleaning costs if you like. Or we can go right into that shop there and I’ll get you a new one, whatever one you’d like. We’d probably get it for free. I’m a judge, you see, and I’ve helped Martha with a few speeding tickets, she drives like a lunatic. I’m sure she’d be delighted to return the favor.” He pointed to the shop across the street that read “Martha’s Boutique and Fine Jewelry.”

  Piper winced as the judge’s breath, tainted heavily with the smell of onions, blew across her face. She supposed when you paid people to like you, or even to have sex with you, there was very little grooming required.

  She took a few steps back then pointed over her shoulder. “That is such a nice offer, but I really have to get going. I appreciate it.” She let her words trail off as she turned and quickly walked away from him.

  She climbed the large cement stairs outside of town hall practically in a run, skipping two at a time. She stepped into the revolving door and pushed it quickly around, pressing herself against the glass and willing it to move faster.

  Once inside the lobby, she braced herself with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her hair had become wild, knocked out of its barrette when she fell. She felt jittery and blood was pumping quickly through her veins, but she didn’t realize how tousled she really looked.

  “Piper?” She heard someone calling her name, but couldn’t register it without more oxygen making its way to her brain. “What happened to you?” Piper squinted and looked hard, trying to make out the blurry figure standing in front of her. It was Jules, and she was staring at Piper as if she had seen a ghost, a very out of breath ghost covered in sweet tea. She took Piper by the arm and led her into an office, shut the door and offered her a chair.

  “I’m
fine. I bumped into someone on my way here and took a little fall. He accidently spilled his drink on me. It’s nothing really.” Piper wiped at the front of her shirt, not realizing until right then how much of the drink had actually landed on her, and how transparent her white T-shirt had become.

  “Well here, you can wear my sweater.” Jules pulled her red sweater off and handed it to Piper. “I always wear layers when I’m here. You never know if the old air conditioner in this building will be blowing hot or cold air. It has a mind of its own.” Jules look suspiciously at Piper. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m positive. It was my fault really. I was distracted and I slammed right into the guy. I landed on my butt, and I was a little embarrassed I guess. I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.” Piper smiled as convincingly as she could, and Jules’s worry seemed to diminish.

  “Give me that shirt and I’ll go wash it out in the bathroom and run it under the hand dryer. I spill so much coffee on myself here I’m like an expert with that thing.” Sitting in wet clothes in the drafty building had given her a chill and she was grateful for the sweater.

  Piper slipped her wet shirt over her head. She hadn’t heard another soul around the office since she had sat down. But of course that changed the moment she tossed her shirt over to Jules.

  A quick knock before the door swung open sent Piper nearly jumping out of her skin and standing up abruptly. The sweater fell between the wall and the chair, out of her reach.

  “Hey Jules, your mom asked me to stop by and see if you…” Bobby was halfway in the door before seeing Piper, standing shirtless, with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. The moment seemed to last forever. It was long enough for him to catch a glimpse of the subtle lace of her bra contrasting against the crimson red of her skin, flush with embarrassment.